The Urinator
He’s quite crafty. In the wee hours of the night, when all is silent and dark, he stealthily creeps down the hallway. He delicately launches himself over the ineffective excuse of a doggie gate, like a ninja warrior from Crouching Tiger and lands without making a sound. He slinks into the girls carpeted, carpeted, room, and makes his way to the corner. He then launches a stream of urine like only a un-neutered eight month old puppy can.
Sufficiently relieved, he retraces his steps, and curls up in the corner of the couch, serene, fullfilled, happy.
See the look on his face here, after I discovered his little “present”. It’s as if he is saying “What mama? Me? Pee where I shouldn’t? Not me! See how adorable I am?”
Inside you know he is laughing maniacally. “Muah ha ha haaaa. When dark falls, I will pee again!”
Well, Chester my dear, I have but these words for you.
“Hello Crate Boy. Welcome to the newest phase of your life”.
